


Riptide

by RedLeaderfic



Category: National Wrestling Alliance
Genre: Bullet Club Demon, Creature Inside, Denial of Feelings, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Rivals With Benefits, Writing on the Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-27 00:57:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14414211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLeaderfic/pseuds/RedLeaderfic
Summary: Jason gets a call from Chase in the middle of the night and an already disappointing Wrestlemania weekend gets much, much worse.





	Riptide

**Author's Note:**

  * For [beedekka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/beedekka/gifts).



> Let's try this again! /o\
> 
> Episode tag for Supercard of Honor. Sort of.

Wrestlemania weekend hadn’t gone the way Jason had hoped. Maybe there was no shame in losing but losing in the first round in the Axxess tournament and to someone he knew he could beat, at that? That stung. Nothing to look forward to the rest of the weekend except the rest of the Evolve roster talking behind his back, both out of jealousy he’d been picked to be in it and then gloating that he’d choked. He left New Orleans early and drove until his gas tank ran low, determined to put the disappointing few days behind him.

Jason didn’t know why he’d picked this motel. Nothing special about it, roadside chain, not even noteworthy squalor to recommend it but a little voice had told him it was time to stop. Jason always listened to his little voices. He wished he’d listened harder during his match with Aichner but it was too late to change that now. He needed sleep and was at the point that any bed in any motel would do.

He managed maybe an hour of it. Jason opened his eyes and stared at the cracks in the ceiling, wide awake in a way that he knew meant nothing good. He picked up his phone and saw it was well past midnight; there was electricity under his skin making him restless, that wouldn’t let him close his eyes even when he tried to and a hard knot in his stomach. It felt like when he knew a match was going bad and there was nothing to be done about it, and Jason had already had his fill of that for one week. 

Something bad was about to happen.

The thought had barely finished passing through Jason’s mind when his phone lit up. He’d silenced the ringer hours ago so there was something ghostly about the way the blue glow lit up the room. He’d never actually programmed Chase’s name into his phone – for a while he’d toyed with putting in DIPSHIT as the name but even that had felt like too much acknowledgement – but the truth was he hadn’t needed to. It wasn’t as if he wouldn’t know the idiot’s number.

The phone rang longer than it really should have without going to voice mail. When he finally brought himself to answer it Jason steeled himself for Chase taunting him about going out in the first round, as if there was any chance that could actually be what this was about. “What do you want?” There was no answer, just loud, ragged breathing. Jason sat on the edge of the bed, that knot in his stomach getting bigger. “Chase?”

Jason heard a high, pained whimper and the hair on his arms stood up. “…Kincaid?”

“Yeah. What happened?”

“I…I don’t know. Blacked out. Cracked up my rental.”

Jason already had his boots back on. “Where are you? Are you still in NOLA?” But has soon as the words came out Jason knew he wouldn’t be, because something had told him to get the hell out of that city and he hadn’t thought to question what.

“No, I…I’m back home, I caught a booking up here.” Chase groaned, sharp and sudden like pain had caught him off guard. “Something’s wrong.”

“Don’t move. Don’t move and call fucking 911, don’t call me.”

“Something’s wrong,” Chase said again and his tone burrowed deep into Jason’s spine. Chase was a cheating, corners cutting asshole who wouldn’t know a fair fight if it hit him over the head with a chair but Jason could count on one hand the number of times he’d heard him genuinely terrified. “Who won?” Chase said, his voice very small.

Jason had forgotten that Ring of Honor show was even happening in his disappointment about his own tournament and while he hadn’t watched he ‘d been paying enough attention to the circus surrounding it to make an educated damn guess. “I’m on my way.”

Chase groaned again. “My blood’s on fire.” 

Jason paused at the doorway, his mind racing through his options, then backtracked and fished a book of matches out of his bag. He struck two at once, counted off twice, blew them out and then struck the third, watching it burn down until it was about halfway and then extinguished it on his palm, wincing as he drew a quick and dirty pentagram with the ashes. “Any better?”

Chase was quiet for a few long moments but he finally whispered, “Yeah. Yeah, a little.” Chase sounded relieved but Jason wasn’t; that charm had been a guess but it working meant Jason was right about what this was and that it was way above his pay grade. “How’s he doing this?”

“I don’t think he even knows he’s doing it,” Jason said, not bothering to keep the disgust out of his voice and not needing ask _who_. There were few things more dangerous than people who desperately craved power but had no idea what it was. “I’m on my way,” he said again.

“I don’t know where I am.” Chase’s voice sounded hazy, like he was suddenly very drowsy, and Jason felt panic creep up even though that could be a result of the charm just as easily as anything else. “Some backroad. There was a detour.”

“Just shut up.”

“Why are you helping me?” Jason could still hear the pain in his voice, muted under the charm. “You don’t even like me.”

Jason drummed his fingers against the doorjamb because that was a very handsome question. “Why did you call me?” Chase didn’t answer, nothing besides more pained breathing; Jason swore and stormed out, found his rental in the parking lot and started it up. He leaned his head back against the seat for a moment, then pulled a paper map out of the glove box; there were enough dead zones in the mountain backroads that a hard copy backup was a necessity, Jason was surprised Chase had gotten a signal through. He stared at the lines on the map for a few minutes, pouring all of his concentration into it.

“Kincaid?”

“Yeah?”

“Thought you’d hung up.” Jason thought the charm might be wearing off already; Chase hissed his breath between his teeth, cursing softly. “Don’t hang up.”

Jason squeezed his eyes shut. The entire time he’d known Chase Owens he couldn’t remember Chase ever asking him to do anything aside from telling him to go to hell. “I won’t.”  
***  
The first time Jason fought Chase Owens had been in church basement on the Tennessee border in front of maybe thirty people counting the ladies running the raffle. No one knew Jason’s name and the two people who’d known Chase tried to throw their beers at him.

By the time that match was over everyone in that room was damn sure what their names were. 

Jason shook for two days after that match. Woke up something in his blood. It took a long time for Jason to understand it, it wasn’t like he’d been some green rookie who could get lit on fire by having a great match, he’d been wrestling for years by then. Couldn’t figure out how this sneering punk had gotten under his skin so bad, especially since he’d won the match. And it kept happening, that lightning striking every time they were in the same ring and to make matters worse it started spilling over out of the ring, Chase getting mouthy with him in the locker room and getting pushed up against the wall for it or the two of them splitting a hotel room because they were the only ones on the card who knew each other and winding up splitting the bed, too. Each time was going to be the last time, Jason kept promising himself that.

It had been little over a year since Chase had dropped him on his head and taken his title. Jason remembered staring up at the lights having a moment of clarity, that this had to stop. No more. It had taken time to find his way back but he’d worked _hard_ at it; changed his look, changed his focus, centered himself and the work and Evolve. Total break with his past, he’d felt it slough off along with his hair and thought he’d finally emerged clean. 

Jason watched the hazard lights blink dimly through the fog up ahead. He didn’t remember the drive; he might as well have closed his eyes at the motel and woken up here. Like he’d been called to it. He wished he could blame Bullet Club and everything that came with it but the truth was Chase Owens had been quicksand in the shape of a man for as long as Jason had known him.

Jason kept telling himself there was nothing stopping him from driving back the way he’d come and leaving Chase there even as he walked up to the car. He felt his heart drum in his chest as he saw the shape of it, one of the front wheels off the axle and the front end wrapped around a tree, the incredible amount of luggage Chase insisted on traveling with spilling out of the hatchback. The door was already hanging half open and creaked off its top hinge when Jason touched it; Chase was still strapped into the driver’s seat, his eyes closed and his breathing rapid and shallow but without a mark on him. Jason didn’t find that at all reassuring. “Chase,” Jason said, one hand on his shoulder. Chase was radiating heat, his temperature far higher than any fever should ever be. “You got your way, now wake up.” Jason saw the phone still clutched tight in Chase’s hand and reached over to end the call. Chase didn’t stir until Jason touched his forehead, his eyes opening mechanically and staring blankly out in front of him; when he finally glanced up Jason’s whole body flinched, his hand jerking away from the contact. Chase’s irises were ringed with vivid red, the expression in them alien as something else looked out from behind Chases’ eyes, something Jason had first sensed two years earlier but never actually seen. Jason snarled and pricked his thumb; with his other hand Jason pushed Chase’s head back against the seat and pressed his bloodied thumb to the center of Chase’s forehead, drawing three uneven lines that absorbed into his skin. “ _Sleep_.”

Chase’s eyelids fluttered and he went limp. Jason unbuckled his seatbelt, pushing him back upright when he almost slumped out of the car and crouching down to loop one of Chase’s arms around his shoulders. Jason hauled his dead weight into the passenger seat of his own car and strapped him in; he started to stir again when Jason turned the engine over and Jason watched him, wary, but Chase’s eyes were their normal light blue when they blinked open. “Kincaid?” he murmured, shivering hard once. 

“Unfortunately.” Jason didn’t like the way Chase was looking at him. “It’ll be fine.”

“It’s ‘cause I sided with Kenny,” Chase said, his breathing picking back up. “I knew this would happen if things went this way.” Jason shook his head; when he’d touched the power earlier there’d been malevolence there but in a very general way. It had reminded Jason of someone stretching their wings but not realizing anyone else was in the room to be hit, although he had no idea how to explain that. “Did you get my phone?”

“No.”

“They might be looking for me.”

“I don’t care.”

Chase shook again, hugging his arms across his chest, and Jason stroked his thumb over the now very faint mark he’d drawn on Chase’s forehead. Chase sighed, moving his head into the touch, and Jason wasn’t thrilled about him doing that either. “ How’d the tournament go?” Chase said, slurring the slightest bit. “I was working, I couldn’t watch.”

For a second Jason thought Chase was rubbing his face in the loss, but no, it seemed like a genuine question and Jason wondered what it said about it him that he much would have preferred Chase being a jerk. “Won the whole thing.”

“They’re gonna make you an offer soon. Everyone knows it.”

Jason shook his head as he put the car in reverse. “Lucky for you they haven’t yet. Believe me, I’d rather be in Florida instead of scraping you off the side of the road any night.” He made sure to keep one hand on Chase’s arm as he U-turned back onto the backroad. “Just shut up and let me drive.”  
***  
Jason dragged Chase into the motel room and shoved him onto the bed; Chase tried to curl up into a ball but Jason grabbed him by one shoulder and rolled him to his back. “Don’t make it harder for me to work,” Jason said, tugging off Chase’s Bullet Club shirt and tossing it in the trash before going to rifle through his bag. Ever since Chase had decided to start bringing his bad decisions back from Japan with him Jason had carried a vial of specially prepared rowan ash with him, just in case. “Hold still now. Don’t move until I say.” Chase started to nod before catching himself, his eyes wide as Jason climbed back on top of him. First Jason reinforced the mark on his forehead, then traced under the edge of his lower lip and down his neck. Chase tipped his chin back reflexively, baring his throat; Jason paused, needing the second to get his thoughts back in order. It had been a long time since he’d been able to get his hands on Chase Owens, in the ring or otherwise, and it was taking more self-control than he’d expected to remind himself that they weren’t here for fun. He wondered if that was the Demon getting into his head by trying another tack. 

Probably not.

Jason kept his free hand pressed against Chase’s side as he got to work drawing the sigil from his collarbone down over his whole torso, the fine hair on Chase’s chest tickling at his fingers. The few seconds when he’d shifted around enough to accidentally break contact he’d felt Chase immediately start to writhe as the pain came roaring back, reacting almost like some unseen force had punched him. Jason felt like every time that happened like he was being tested. Like he was being _tempted_. He couldn’t be sure if that reaction was something whispering in his ear or just his own bad impulses when it came to Chase, he’d spent a lot of years getting a lot of satisfaction out of putting Chase in pain. He poured his focus into drawing the sigil, which was complicated enough. When he completed a line it settled, like he was drawing it in henna; this would only last for twenty-four hours but Jason hoped that would be long enough. And if not, at least then Jason would have more time to come up with a solution to what would then be a very big problem. 

Chase squirmed as Jason started drawing down his ribs. “I said stay still.”

“Tryin’.”

If there was any consolation it was that Jason could feel that Chase was having just as hard a time keeping his thoughts where they were supposed to be. Jason rocked his hips once, giving in to the temptation, and he felt Chase arch his back in response. Chase smirked when Jason started undoing his belt, the expression more fragile than his standard but close enough to normal Chase Owens nonsense for Jason to be relieved to see it. “Should have known you just wanted me on my back,” Chase said, his voice rough. 

“If I ever want your shoulders down I don’t need any outside help to get you there.” Chase managed a quick smile and it threw Jason each time how that could completely transform his face. Chase’s hand had been latched around Jason’s arm; he pulled Jason down to him and against his better judgement Jason let him. He held off on kissing back as long as he could stand it, until his skin felt like it was buzzing, and the relieved sigh Chase let out when Jason gave in felt like a reward. He kissed his way down Chase’s neck, the drawn lines stinging his lips, then he pushed himself back to his knees and further down on the bed to get back to work. He slid Chase’s jeans and boxers off, able to take his time now that the groundwork had been laid. He stroked his hands down Chase’s thighs before dipping his fingertips back in the ash and drawing the sigil’s outline, feeling Chase’s muscles twitch under the touch. 

“You are such a fuckin’ tease.”

“Any more lip and I’ll drive you back to the side of the road.” This felt better, though. Sparring with Chase felt normal and Jason could put out of his mind for a little while this situation was anything but.

He felt Chase trace the edges of the tattoo covering his scalp and tried not to show a reaction; it was still fresh enough to be a little tender. “Why did you get all this done?”

For half a second Jason was tempted to get into the intricacies of the geometrics and layers of protective symbolism but he knew Chase wouldn’t actually care about any of that. “I’d planned it for a while.”

Chase shook his head, seemingly still enthralled with his ink. “What has got into you? I woke up in the car and I almost didn’t recognize you.”

 _That was the point._ Jason sighed, shoving all that aside. He’d been putting off this part but an incomplete sigil was worse than no sigil at all; Chase had been hard the whole time Jason had been working him over and he moaned as Jason stroked his fingertips up his shaft, drawing a solid line. “Oh, fuck,” Chase whispered, his head tossing back and Jason had to grit his teeth to keep his concentration. “Don’t be like that, c’mon,” Chase said, letting out a low whine when Jason touched him again. Jason’s self-control was something he took pride in but he was only human; when the line settled he traced the length of it up Chase’s shaft with his tongue, watching Chase’s eyes go wide.

He turned Chase over and started on the second half of the sigil, writing the protective script directly onto his back. Now Chase was the one rocking his hips. “C’mon Kincaid,” outright grinding against him. Jason tried to grit his teeth but Chase didn’t plead like that very often and Jason had never been able to resist when he did. Jason wished he could blame demonic influence but his ability to make the worst possible decisions when alone with Chase Owens long predated any help. “I’m having a real bad night.”

Jason surveyed his progress and told himself that well, if anything bad happened because of taking a break Chase had asked for it. He trailed one hand along Chase’s hip, along the curve of his ass and down his leg, making sure to keep one hand on him as he reached back for his bag on the floor. He slicked up his hand and started slow, careful, teasing fingering, taking advantage of the position shift to draw the last of the sigils on the backs on his thighs, going slower when each time Chase twitched. “Don’t move, I said.”

Chase laughed at him, shivering once when Jason hit a good spot. Seeing Chase literally covered in his handiwork was hitting Jason so much harder than he ever could have expected; he trailed his fingertips along the script down Chase’s back, curling his fingers inside Chase every time that made him moan. Chase’s temperature was still elevated but not at the frightening level it had been in the car and when Chase looked over his shoulder at him his blue eyes were as bright from Jason working him over as from the fever. 

Jason shifted his position, sliding his fingers out rough enough to get a satisfying gasp out. Jason stroked his slick fingers up his own shaft for a few seconds and that was all he could take; Chase moaned when Jason slid inside him, his hand clenching into the sheets. The script on Chase’s back and the sigils on the backs of his arms were glowing slightly and Jason splayed one hand flat against Chase’s back, feeling the magic he’d put there start to weave together beneath his skin.

He leaned forward, tracing the sigil on the back of Chase’s neck with his tongue and Chase moaned, reaching back to curl his hand around the back of Jason’s head. Jason kept his rhythm slow, wanting to build Chase up as thoroughly as the thing inside him had broken him. Chase usually carried on like he was in a rush but for once he seemed happy to let Jason take his time. Jason tousled his loose hair, scraping his nails lightly down the line of his spine and drawing out a soft sigh. “Thought I was gonna die,” Chase murmured. “Back at the car, I mean. It hurt so bad.”

“No one gets to kill you before I get my shot at it,” Jason said, tracing the script on his back again. He splayed one hand flat against Chase’s back, picking up his rhythm just enough to make Chase moan. Good. He wanted Chase distracted. 

He felt some of the symbols inked onto his scalp tingle as he started murmuring the exorcism rite. Chase would thank him later.

He was all but through when Chase spoke up. “Why did you lose?”

“Because that idiot caught me with a....” Jason let the words trail off. It wasn’t that Chase knew he’d lost when he’d claimed in the car he hadn’t watched the tournament, it would be easy enough even for Chase Owens to deduce that Jason hadn’t covered himself in glory there but his voice, his accent, it was wrong. It sounded like someone trying to imitate his accent. “Leave him alone.”

“Why did you lose?” it repeated again, as if Jason hadn’t spoken. Chase propped himself up on his elbows and looked over his shoulder; his irises were ringed with red again, like they had been in the car and Jason felt his spine turned to ice. “You were the best of the field. I watched. I watch everything.”

“Get out of him.”

The thing twisted Chase’s face into a lewd smile. “You first.” Before Jason could react it twisted around so that Jason was on his back with Chase over him, one hand around Jason’s throat. “Do you know why Omega lost?” it continued, like they were having a very pleasant conversation. It had stopped imitating Chase’s drawl, falling into a brogue that reminded Jason of the way Balor spoke but wasn’t quite as clipped. “Because the other wanted it more. Omega felt entitled to the power but his heart and soul lay elsewhere.” 

He tried to complete the rite but his head snapped back, his whole face burning like he’d been slapped. “Why are you hurting him? Chase being loyal is about the only good quality he has, quit punishing him for it.”

The thing actually looked vaguely guilty for a moment. “It was not my intention. The power is resettling. It will pass.” It tipped Jason’s chin up; the impossible fever from the car was back. “You didn’t win because you didn’t want it,” it said, whispering into Jason’s ear. 

“Of course I wanted it. More than any of them, most them had contracts in hand already.”

“And that was why. The prize was not your heart, no more than leadership was Omega’s. What you want it cannot give you.” The thing put Chase’s hand over Jason’s chest, like it wanted to feel his heart beating. “Altering your shell will not change that.” 

“Leave him alone,” Jason said again, ashamed of how the words came out as pleading. “Let him go.”

The thing shook its head. “What’s done is done and what’s mine is mine.” Jason felt that heat start to run through him, focusing in his chest, and fought hard to not move. “But I owe you for your service, Jason Kincaid. If you give me the word I can alter your heart.”

“I don’t want to join the goddamn B---”

The thing put its hand over Jason’s mouth. “I can erase that night,” it said and with horrible clarity Jason know what it meant. “When combat had you breathe in each other’s souls. When you Knew each other. It can never happen and you will achieve everything you know you are capable of.” Jason felt paralyzed. He thought about that first match never happening, how _different_ his life would be. “Say the word.”

Jason stayed silent, his chest feeling like it was burning from the inside out. After a few agonizing seconds crawled by the thing grinned, an awful parody of Chase’s smile. “When you finally know what you want I will hear you.” With that Chase’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed into Jason’s arms; Jason had just set him back on the bed when he startled awake, his eyes confused but clear. “Oh, fuck. Sorry, did I pass out? Shit, I didn’t….”

Jason got back on top of him and did his very best to kiss Chase through the mattress. “Oh good, you’re not mad,” Chase murmured, his back arching as Jason shifted back between his legs; whatever that was that had happened Chase was still slick and loose from before and all Jason wanted to do was overwrite the last few minutes of his memory. He shook when Chase clenched tight around him as he slid back inside, his nails digging into Chase’s shoulders when he took the second to steady himself. He scraped his nails up Chase’s thighs, liking the way that made Chase clench around him again. Chase was so close again so quickly it didn’t make any sense to go slow; Jason leaned forward and started whispering in his ear, forming words only a handful of people on the planet knew. He felt the protective sigils activate at once, forming a soft golden glow. Chase’s hips bucked hard and he gasped; Jason laughed and kept going feeling Chase slowly start to come apart under his hands. Jason kissed him as he came, savoring how it felt when Chase moaned against his lips. This moment, Chase shaking under him as he came, that belong to Jason and nothing else. Jason let the aftershocks carry him through and came so hard he felt lightheaded. Fucking Chase and fighting Chase were two things that always managed to do that to him. He collapsed next to Chase, making sure to keep one leg looped over to keep contact, although that shouldn’t be strictly necessary any more.

After a minute, Chase groped for him, trying to catch his breath. “God, I feel so much better. It’s still there but I can’t....” Chase shook his head as he stopped reaching for words, his eyes wide as he looked at Jason. It took some effort but he rolled over onto him, running the back of his fingers along Jason’s jaw. “Seriously, though. Why’d you get rid of all that?” Jason said, miming stroking a beard. 

Jason stared up at the overhead motel light. “I needed to make changes.”

“Is it working out?”

Jason let out an expansive sigh. “You in my bed right now or not? How’s it look like it’s working out.” He toyed with Chase’s hair. “Why did you call me?”

“’Cause you know this stuff. And I knew you would answer.”

“Why would you think that?”

Chase shrugged. “’Cause you did.” 

Jason wrapped his arm around him. “Shut up and sleep.”

And for a few minutes Jason thought he had. “Funny how we keep doing this. This part I mean, that other part I could stand never doing again.”

“Yeah. Funny. You should get on the case about it.”

Chase broke into an enormous grin, seemingly delighted that Jason had even come close to saying his dumb catch phrase. “I’m guessing you didn’t win.”

“Nah. It’s all right, I don’t have somewhere to put that trophy anyway.”

“Once they sign you we’re probably never going to have another match. I thought about that when I saw you in the brackets.”

Jason stayed quiet for a few moments. “I didn’t think about that at all,” he lied.

Chase shook his head. “I don’t get you.”

“You don’t have to.” Chase was too exhausted to keep arguing with him, which suited Jason just fine. He listened to Chase’s breathing get slow and deep, tracing the lines drawn on his back. Demons presented you with false choices, ifs and ors, a field where the grass could always be greener. It should have known better. It should have known Jason would reject that logic.

Jason knew very well what he wanted and he needed no one’s help in getting it.


End file.
